


All My Past and Futures

by lawsofman



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: F/M, War, World War I, pre-peaky blinders, wwi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:02:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22995145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lawsofman/pseuds/lawsofman
Summary: A transport medic, seeking to do her job between the lines, must find out what she is really made of.
Relationships: Alfie Solomons/Original Female Character(s), Alfie Solomons/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> I had a dream last night that was so incredibly vivid regarding Alfie on the fronts of the War. Alfie is 28 in 1916, according to his peakywiki. My brain wouldn’t let me write anything else until I got this down. Also, I could not find anything regarding Alfie’s backstory with the war aside from the fact that he was a Captain, so anything I write here is purely from my own mind and the bit of research I managed to do.
> 
> This should only be a few short chapters, but I’m a clown so who tf knows??? 
> 
> I was also listening to Pyramid Song by Radiohead at work today and it helped me flesh this out. Love me some good, emotional music.

**Belgium**   
**1916**

“It’s just going to be a quick drop off of supplies, do some quick fixing up, and pick up whoever needs taken back. We’ll be in and out, and back to the field hospital in no time,” I said as a reassurance to Mary, and also to myself, as I adjusted the strap on my helmet. Mary’s legs bounced up and down with nervous energy. “Hey,” I got her attention. Her wide, doe brown eyes looked back at me, worry evident. “We’re going to be fine,” I nodded to her and, reluctantly, she nodded back. I pushed down further on the gas, trying to get the both of us to where the 1st Battalion was.

Driving the ambulance truck between the lines wasn’t anything new to me. It had been two years -more or less- that I had been dodging the Germans in Belgium. Mary, on the other hand, had been serving for just as long, but had rarely made it out of the field hospitals and onto the line.

“Headquarters said it was relatively clear, so just keep your eyes open,” Mary nodded and turned to look out of the passenger window. When the familiar land markers of the British trenches came into view, I breathed a small sigh of relief and stopped the truck in the designated spot far enough from the trenches to not cause more damage to the trenches should something go wrong -protocol.

My relief, however, was short lived.

Mary’s eyes widened as she turned to me. The familiar whistling of an incoming mortar stopped my heart dead in my chest. Mary and I screamed as the truck teetered and shook when the shell hit the ground about three meters from where we were parked. The windshield shattered, sending a glass spread across both of our faces that we tried to shield with our hands.

We had to move. The next shell wouldn’t be as forgiving.

I pushed Mary towards her door.

“Get out! Get out!” I screamed, throwing my own door open. I grabbed what little supplies I could out of the door of the cab and started shoving what I could in my pockets as I ran.

“Come on, Mary! Run!” I screamed to the woman running behind me. I grabbed one of Mary’s flailing arms and pulled her forward to go ahead of me. My boots slipped in the muddy terrain as I tried to gain any kind of traction to push myself forward.

The whistle of another mortar shrieked through the air and hit the truck we were in mere seconds ago. A massive explosion blasted behind us. Mud and debris pelted the back of my uniform and helmet. The force of the blast sent me to my stomach, face down in a puddle, as flames flew up into the sky.

“ _Get down here!_ ” A man’s voice shouted up ahead. “ _Move!_ ”

“Y/N!” Mary, who had fallen to her hands and knees in the blast, was ready to run back to help me. I coughed, gasping for air, as muddy water invaded my mouth and nose. I tried to clear the mud from my eyes with my equally muddy hands and screamed back:

“The trenches!” I pulled myself up on shaky legs. The trenches were within sight. “Get to the trenches now!” Another mortar detonated to our right, scaring Mary enough to get her moving. She held her helmet to her head with one hand and steadied herself with the other.

“ _This way!_ ” Another man shouted towards us. And just then -as I had started to regain my momentum- another mortar.

And she was _gone_.

The blast sent me back this time. I lay, facing the sky, as more mud, rock and _Mary_ rained from the sky. My ears rang and time seemed to slow. I slowly sat up and blinked, confusion wracking my brain. I saw men peaking their heads from the trench, screaming to me, their arms waving for me to follow, but my brain seemed to disconnect with my body.

My eyes could only train on where Mary was, and the massive crater that now took her place.

I blinked and saw a man running towards me, still yelling. The feeling of his hands grabbing under my arms brought me out of my stupor and my legs started kicking out to find purchase on the uneven ground.

“Go! Go! Go!” He screamed in my ear over the bombardment around us. When we were a meter or so from the trench line, he gave me a push. I fell to the mud, sliding over the edge and into the deep trench below.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to give a big “THANK YOU” for the immense outpouring of love for the first part of this story. I was absolutely blown away! I cannot fathom it.
> 
> AAN: For the story’s sake, I would like to point out that up until now, Alfie isn’t a Captain yet. Our boy is working his way up tho.

Coughing deep and wet from the impact of hitting the bottom of the deep trench, I felt myself get pulled up to my feet and sat upon a block of wood. Mortars were still going off all around the camp, making my body jump slightly with each detonation. As I sat there, near hyperventilation, with a growing number of men turning to watch me, I shook uncontrollably.

“I…I h-have t-to g-g-get back,” I managed to stutter out and tried to stand. A heavy hand pushed my muddy shoulder down, effectively making me sit.

“Right, unless you lot are going to help,” The voice addressed the group of men who stopped to stare, “Get back to work! Private!” The man pulled a soldier by his shoulder. “You go alert the Captain, right, about what just happened. Tell him the ambulance is fucked, innit, and that I’m bringing Miss Y/N down to see him and get this sorted out. Crack on.” The man nodded, saluted, and took off down the narrow trench.

The gruff, cockney accent was familiar to my ears and I felt the slightest bit of relief. His hand felt like an anchor. The man moved to kneel in front of me, and brought his hands to hold my own, slowing the shaking to a tremble. His face was dirty, and he hadn’t shaved for a week or so, but his eyes were bluer than the ocean and they were familiar.

Grounding.

“Need you to take a deep breath, Y/N. Are you injured?” I shook my head as another tremor ran through my body. He nodded, and took a few breaths -guiding me. The only thing I could do was take in and release quick, short breaths. “Slower,” He guided. Eventually, my breathing calmed. “That’s better, right, that is,” I brought a shaking hand up to wipe some of the mud from my face.

“It t-took Mary. Mary’s gone,” Alfie nodded, a solemn look crossing his dirty features.

“Right, it did.” Alfie nodded, mouth tense, and thought for a moment before continuing, “Your Mary, wherever she is, in a better place now -I can promise you that,” My uniform clung to my body, the thick material of the issued trousers, blouse, and jacket feeling so much heavier from the water and mud they had absorbed.

“…Thank you,” I managed to mumble out. He just looked at me, an almost sadness in his sea green eyes that I was sitting there with him. “I would have laid there and died had it not been for you. I owe you my life,”

“Nah,” Alfie grunted as he stood from his kneeling position. He reached his hands out for me to grab onto to lift myself up. “Let’s see about getting you out of here, huh?”

* * *

I didn’t know how long I was sitting outside of the dug-in room while Alfie and his other commanding officers spoke inside. One of the privates had given me a canteen and some cloth to clean myself up.

“Could anyone spare paper and a pencil?” I asked to anyone who passed by. A man -who couldn’t be older than 25- was sitting in a hole dug into the trench wall across from me. He had a beanie tugged over his head and a wool blanket was wrapped around his body. As I sat outside the meeting room, we silently observed each other with glances, his curiosity more obvious than mine. “Please, spare paper and a pencil?” I asked again to the passing soldiers. I got a few ‘Sorry, Ma’am,’s thrown my way until the man in the hole spoke up.

“Who’re you writin’ to?” He had a thick Irish accent and an absolutely miserable look on his face. Any other time I would’ve joked that he looked that way _because_ he was Irish, but I figured I’d keep that to myself. The fact that he even spoke to me was startling.

“My father,” I replied after another group passed between us.

“He on the lines?” I shook my head.

“Horse threw him off about a year ago, broke his hip. Hasn’t been able to walk right since.” The man nodded in understanding, then unwrapped himself from his cocooned blanket to pull his rucksack towards him. He dug around for a few moments, then pulled out a single sheet of stained paper and a nub of a pencil. The man held both items out of his hiding hole towards me. I quickly stood from my seat and weaved between a few walking men and kneeled in front of the hole.

“Just need the pencil back with you’re done,” I nodded, taking the pencil and paper, and scurried back to my seat to write the letter as quickly as possible.

“ _They lose a truck and two paramedics, and they’ll not send any more for God knows how long!_ ” I heard someone shout in the room as I finished my final sentence. “ _We need to get her back as soon as possible. This is not up for discussion, gentlemen. It needs to be done and that is final._ ” The voice boomed. “ _Someone bring the poor girl in here._ ” Mere moments later, the fabric that acted as a door to the underground room pulled open with a whipping sound. I quickly folded the letter and stuffed it into my left breast pocket.

“Miss,” The soldier said, “This way,” The man, no older than twenty, directed, holding the fabric to the side so I could step through. I held up my hand, giving him a gesture that said I would be one moment, then ran over to the man who re-cocooned himself in his hole. I handed him the pencil.

“Thank you,” I hoped he could hear just how grateful I was for his kindness. He nodded, his face less severe, and took the small writing utensil.

The dug in stairs leading down into the meeting room were nearly black in the darkness. I slowly made my way down, my hand holding against the wall to keep myself from falling down. I blinked a few times when I made it down the last step, trying to get my eyes adjusted to the darkness as quickly as possible.

The room was lit in a dim glow of lamps that were scattered across different tables. I counted three men, all of which were looking at me as I entered. One, I recognized as Lieutenant Alfie Solomons - the man who saved my life.

“Major Darcy, this is Y/N Y/L/N of the RAMC,” Alfie’s gruff voice introduced. I stood straight and saluted the Major.

“At ease, miss,” Major Darcy stated. His voice, which I recognized to be the one yelling while I waited outside, was much softer now. “My condolences,” He started as I brought my hand down, bringing both to rest behind my back. I gave the Major a stiff nod.

“Thank you, sir,”

“Miss Y/L/N, you are quite a ways from your station,”

“Yes, sir. About thirteen miles, sir,”

“Correct. Come take a look, Miss Y/L/N,” Major Darcy motioned to the table behind him. I took the few steps forward, making eye contact with Alfie, who nodded. “You came from the north?”

“Northwest, sir,”

“This route?” His finger followed along different roads from Beloeil until they landed on their current location in Mons.

“Yes, sir, that’s the route,”

“As I’m sure you were informed, the Germans fled East,” Major Darcy said. I nodded.

“Yes, sir. We were debriefed before we left that we shouldn’t run into any trouble on our route,”

“Well, we both know that is absolute hogwash now, don’t we?” Not knowing if I should answer or not, I kept my mouth shut. “The Germans moved West, not East, as you so clearly found out. Because of this poor intel, we lost eight men, a medic, and an ambulance vehicle in one fell swoop.” He slammed his hand on the table, rattling the little figurines on the map, and also successfully making me jump where I stood. “Your return route has been compromised, the enemy currently taking control of the roads here,” He pointed, “And here, therefore you all will need to cross through no man’s land in order to make it back to Beloeil. Your journey will not be simple, and for that reason -along with a plethora of others- I am sending two of my best to escort you back to where you belong,” Alfie and the other man in the room stepped forward towards the table on the opposite side.

“Second Lieutenant Solomons and Corporal Wyman will get you back to your station, Miss Y/L/N. I’ve sent a private to get you provisions and a spare uniform.” The Major’s eyes looked at the caked on mud that covered my uniform in disgust. “Can you shoot a rifle, Miss Y/L/N?” I furrowed my dirty brows in confusion.

“Women aren’t allowed firearms, Sir,”

“That’s not my question,” I blinked a few times before answering.

“I can, sir,” My heart pounded in my chest as the Major kept vivid eye contact with me.

“What’s your experience?”

“I hunt, and I live on a farm, sir. I can shoot a fox square between the eyes at two-hundred yards,” The Major hummed in response.

“Corporal,” The Major turned to the younger of the two men. Corporal Wyman stepped forward. “I want Miss Y/L/N armed before you leave here tonight. Am I understood?”

“Sir,” Wyman said in confirmation with a nod.

“Sir, if I’m seen carrying a weapon, I will be dishonorably discharged from service.”

“Do you want to travel through No Man’s Land without anything to defend yourself? Be my guest. Otherwise, I’d advise that you don’t _let_ yourself be seen with it.” Knowing to keep my mouth shut, I bit my lip and nodded. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Dismissed,” All three of us saluted the Major and filed out of the underground room.


End file.
